The Weight Of The Dead And Regrets
by Quack Quest
Summary: He had just one wish. One measly wish, yet it was necessary. It was something he has never had the courage to do since the accident that led to his father's death. All Allen wanted to do. . . was visit Mana's grave.


He had just one wish.

One measly wish, yet it was necessary. It was something he has never had the courage to do since the accident that led to his father's death.

All Allen wanted to do. . . was visit Mana's grave.

But he couldn't with Link hounded on him like a guard dog, because Central was watching him like an assassin on the prowl just waiting for the precise moment to strike. He wasn't an assassin, though. He wasn't a traitor. Allen understood their reasoning to an minimum extent, but after he got to thinking about their illogical logic. . . he realized that their wariness was for nothing.

He wanted to know why they think he was betray the only people in his life? His family, that's what the Black Order was. Including Howard Link and the Third Exorcists. Worst of all, it included the obnoxious, contentious, insensitive Kanda Yuu, however, Allen knew the guy wasn't heartless. He wasn't completely insensitive or crude. As long as you don't wear his patience out, Kanda will say thank you, please, or you're welcome, or even other polite words. It's not common, but it isn't rare.

Until lately.

Everybody has been on edge, and Allen most of all. The fear of doing something wrong, just one little thing, became a phobia, and that became an intoxicating sensation that drowned him from the time his eyes open to the time they close at the end of the day. One mistake is all it will take for Leverrier to make a move against him, without explanation, without mercy. He might be the only person in, and he meant _only_ hollow-shelled person, in the Order whom Allen didn't like.

What really set Allen off was the grueling assignments and lack of sleep. His energy was rapidly depleting, his smile was hard to stretch, and he felt, no, he _knew_, he must smile. Not for others, but for himself. There are just some things people can't do for you and though they can try to help push in that direction, they couldn't give him faith and hope right now. Somehow he managed to give many hope when he was hanging by a burning string above the trench to oblivion, or was it Hell?

It's been months and not many trust him. He felt his eyes burn with the insatiable sensation, the need, to cry, yet not one tear fell despite his excruciating pain-mentally, physically, and emotionally.

Which is why he decided that he wanted and he needed to go to Mana's grave. It would mean more to the dead soul than Allen, but it's been three years, and whether or not that man truly loved Allen or just what's supposed to be inside him, he owed to him. Because Mana was there. Because Mana gave him life. Because of Mana, Allen found his beginning. Whether Mana loved him, well, Allen was fool for loving the man he called father in spite of knowing the possibility that love wasn't shared.

The first time the idle thought crossed Allen's mind it was barely an intention. It meant nothing, just another rare moment when Allen decided he wanted to do something he was never going to do or want to do. How could he go back to that grave, that hill, after all? No, not after everything that happened there.

It was haunting him in his sleep, during the day, yet. . . not like it used to. Sometimes he'd have nightmares about turning Mana into an Akuma. But now, it was about going back. He couldn't explain it, but his dreams turned into an abyss with a voice, eerie as a storm's night wind, soft as a rose petal, and just a whisper, telling him to go back to the grave. It repeated all night until he woke up and eventually, chased him during the day time.

He became anxious, uncertain, skittish, jittery, unusually silent, and most noticeably, more depressed.

One day he was just sitting in the cafeteria after he returned from an assignment and during that hour, it was mostly empty. It became instinct by now to get his food, sit down at one of the thousands of tables, and eat. . . With Link, nowadays. People used to try to sit next to him all the time, mostly hoping for a nice conversation, encouragement, or because they loved him like he loved them. Now, barely any Exorcists sit with him because of Link or they relentless assignments.

Every time he took a bite, it tasted like stale bread and salt. He eventually just nibbled on the fork in his mouth, not caring if he chipped his teeth, thinking solemnly.

Link, of course, noticed. "Are you feeling alright, Walker?" he immediately asked, looking up from his own pie. Sweet tooth.

"Yes, I'm fine," Allen whispered, though it sounded practiced instead of believable like it normally is. One assurance and people eventually conceded he was telling the truth, so it seemed. He didn't consider himself a liar. No, he just didn't think he'd be considered 'not alright' as long as he wasn't bleeding to death or fatally ill.

"You aren't eating," Link pointed out, his voice a dreary monotone.

Allen sighed. He didn't make any excuses, he didn't tell Link anything. He merely took care of his uneaten food and began trotting around Headquarters quietly with Link hot on his trail. What was he to do? If he didn't go to Mana's grave, he feared his circumstances getting worse, and it was already effecting him terribly.

That's when one of the dumbest decisions was decided-he was going to escape. It was utterly stupid of him considering his circumstances. But he was going to do it.

He spent the next few days being very subtle, hoping Komui wouldn't call him in for an assignment, and luckily, he didn't. Exorcists returned and left, while Allen waited just for the right night to slip away. Link had been exhausted on the fourth day, having to work consistently and constantly without a break, filing papers, writing notes and reports, watching Allen, etcetera, and he fell asleep faster than iron sinking in water once his head hit that pillow.

Allen was very silent, though tired himself, as he pulled his valise out from under his bed and made sure Timcanpy was with him. When he had everything ready, he slid out of his room and nearly yelped when he-closed the door, first-bumped into Komui and Lenalee. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach, and like it has been recently, his nerves got the better of him-he became to antsy as they studied him that he could taste bile in his throat.

"Where are you going, Allen?" Komui asked, without expression.

Lenalee looked at him-concerned, inquisitive, perplexed, and perhaps a little angry. Allen stammered some excuse, but it made no sense, and he was asked to repeat it. Making sure Link's light snoring was still audible from inside, Allen hesitantly whispered, "I have somewhere I need to go. I'll be right back."

"That isn't a good idea," Komui mutter, glancing at Allen's chamber door. "I'm sure you mean no harm, but you needn't give Central any reasons to find you more conspicuous than they think you are. Go back in your before Link wakes up."

"I can't." The defiance in his voice surprised even himself.

The surprise was on Lenalee's face, but Komui managed to conceal his as he speculated this situation curiously. Allen gulped. Lenalee narrowed her eyes and pointed at his door, hissing, "Go back in there. Think of the consequences, Allen."

"I'm not doing anything foolish, I promise."

Lenalee didn't believe him. "And where exactly do you plan to go?"

He didn't answer and his gaze lowered to his feet.

"Allen, I'm certain you understand your situation, and as much I hate to watch Link follow you, it's mandatory for now. You know why-"

"I do, and I fully comprehend the consequences, Komui," Allen interjected softly. "It should only take a few days. A week at most."

Komui adamantly shook his head no, in a sort of childish yet stern way, and Allen bit his bottom lip. If it had just been Komui, he could have easily walked away. He wouldn't do anything to him unless one of his experiments. . .

Anyway, if it weren't Lenalee, Allen would have left Komui by now. With a depressing sigh, he leaned against his door, squeezing his eyes shut. Yes, he was upset about the delay. Yes, he was tired. Yes, he needed to find a way around this obstacle.

"Where did you plan on going?" Lenalee asked, mentally noting the sad aura emanating from him. It was a bit. . . disturbing, he was so sad.

He answered this time, too softly, too quietly, and with such tender wistfulness and yet, the infectious sorrow; his answer echoed in their ears. "Mana's grave."

He's exhausted, Komui thought as he stared at that somber look on Allen's face. It was a feature most were unaccustomed to. It was heart wrenching. He's seen Allen cry, visibly and inwardly; he's seen Allen in grief and unsettling sorrowful moods, but there was something, just _something_, undefinable about him.

It was easily concluded it had something to do with Mana, the boy's foster-father who died when he was only twelve, then was discovered by General Cross, thus the predicament they were in today. Because of Timcanpy, Komui knew what happened to Allen in the past, specific things, such as turning, unfortunately, Mana into an Akuma. Despite brief as it was, it tortured Allen to know that, and Komui didn't think Allen had ever gone back to that hill.

Gazing into those silvery orbs of his, Komui felt a telekinesis sort of mind-connecting understanding, odd as it sounded. There are just some things people have to do. And after everything, this was something Komui must do. "A week, you say?"

Allen, startled by Komui's question, blinked, then vehemently nodded with hope. Komui weakly smiled. "Okay, Allen, I have a plan. But you must be back in a week, no more. And you must absolutely agree with the conditions."

There was a sort of twinkling mischief in Komui's eyes that sent shudders down Allen's spine, but he nodded agreement anyway, for there was sympathy and compassion and understanding in those warm eyes. _The eyes of family upon you. . ._

* * *

He hadn't completely liked what he had been dealt, but he suffered. Somehow Kanda and Lavi were dragged into the situation along with Lenalee. Allen wasn't allowed to go alone, so that's why Kanda came, and because Allen worked so well-surprise there, and a miracle-with him in battle against the enemy. Lavi heard about Allen's leaving, and without Link, and as a duty of a friend, comrade, and Bookman-to-be, he persuaded Komui into coming. Then Lenalee. Oh, Lenalee, she merely followed them. Her excuse? Keeping the boys in order since it was a very important matter. Her real reason? She was extremely concerned about Allen, far too curious, and, well, she wasn't sure if Allen should go at this alone. She also thought it might be the best thing for him to do-go at it alone. But she came anyway.

Komui and the Science Department were going to distract Link for a week to protect Allen. He kept wondering what they were possibly going to do. . . After awhile, he was sure he was going to have nightmares for a month and regret leaving Link in their hands after he formulated so many possibilities. Good Lord, he hoped Link wasn't dead when he returned.

Lenalee and Lavi knew Komui's plans but didn't inform him. Allen seemed too sullen and pushed out of the world to approach. He barely ate. He was paler than usual. He had trouble sleeping on the train. He didn't argue with Kanda much, nor was he easily antagonized, which really bummed Kanda (and unbeknownst to them, it worried him as well, though he'd never admit it.) Allen was just. . . perhaps, in a strange, insensible way, homesick.

With Allen, it would be logical, because Allen mentioned on several occasions that he used to travel around as a performing circus clown with his foster father. His home was with his father until he found Cross and came to the Order.

Lenalee tried focusing on Komui's plans-to inject an elixir that would make Link sick as a dog. The fever would force him to stay at the Infirmary and keep him unsuspecting of Allen's absence. She only hoped the experimental serum wasn't going to do anything than what they anticipate.

The silence ate at Allen's soul and his thoughts tormented him. Yet still he didn't speak.

His unspoken voice was murder when he looked so sad. Nobody could find any words to say and their presence felt unnecessary, and that Allen didn't want them there. Truth be told, he appreciated them coming. It was a major comfort, but still he couldn't find anything to say.

No, the memories, so bittersweet and hard to tolerate without crying, of Mana and him kept him reminiscing for hours and dreaming that haunting dream of whispers. His mind was filled with questions and heart exploding inside his chest with agonizing anxiety.

Then, during the second day of traveling, they reached their destination. It was late, so they found an inn and got their rooms first. Because Allen hadn't had privacy in weeks, they allowed him to have his own room, Kanda and Lavi shared theirs, and naturally, Lenalee received her own room, however small.

You would have thought Lenalee would be the first to let her concern get the better of her, or Lavi's curiosity, the dire need of knowing why now Allen decided to come here. But, no, it was neither of them. Both were downstairs getting dinner since they didn't have any and Allen was sitting on the bed in his room when Kanda suddenly came inside without knocking, without permission.

The door slammed shut behind him and Kanda leaned back against the door. "Beansprout."

_It's Allen_. He wanted to contradict Kanda, but he was too. . . weak. . . He didn't want to say anything. Instead, his gaze moved from his ungloved hands to the bed posts, straight across the floor, up Kand'as body, then to those dark onyx eyes. His expression asked what he wanted with Allen.

"Speak, dammit," Kanda growled.

"I want to be alone," Allen whispered.

"Tch, like I care," Kanda dismissed. "Why are we here?"

"Because you came with me."

Kanda's brow twitched. "You're so annoying. You know what I mean. Now answer the question."

Allen listened to his uneven breathing. Was he nervous or about to cry? Something about being back in this small town scared him. "It's something I have to do."

"Why?" Kanda asked.

"I don't know. Respect... A need to... A debt... To find peace... To, maybe, understand." Allen sighed. "Why does it matter? It's not like I asked you to come here."

Kanda didn't respond to that, but he mentally rolled his eyes when he heard a few taps and felt people press up against the door behind him-most likely Lenalee and Lavi. They were listening in on the slow-paced conversation.

"You do realize if Central discovers the truth, they just might-"

"I know what they could and would do," Allen replied sharply. "But frankly, I don't much care. It'll happen sooner or later unless I plan to run away." Allen solemnly eyed Timcanpy as the golden golem fluttered around his head. "Kanda, I know you're not completely insensitive to this world. I know there must be something, anything, that you're scared of facing, but someday you are inevitably going to. . . It's been three years, almost four. I don't know how much longer I'll live; nor can I predict what's going to happen next, therefore, I have to face this."

"You're scared?" Kanda repeated questionably, somewhat surprised, though he gave no hints. He merely examined Allen closely, thinking the boy has come a long way in almost a year. He never thought he'd live this long, yet. . . He was truly a remarkable boy.

"I'm sure you know what I did to Mana. Kanda, I made him an Akuma. There's nothing, I mean _nothing_ more painful or regretful than to know that I not only accidentally. . . caused his death. . . but I. . ." Allen choked on his own voice as the memories came flooding in, striking him hard. "He died protecting me from being trampled by a pair of out of control horses guiding a carriage because I was standing in the middle of the road picking up something I had dropped. He died protecting me, yet in the afterlife I couldn't keep him at peace after what he suffered and everything he had done for me. I. . ."

Kanda sighed. Allen turned away, refusing to cry, especially in front of him. Admittedly, Kanda understood Allen's reasoning to a partial extent. "You aren't the only one to have done that, so don't beat yourself up over, Sprout," Kanda muttered, earning a bitter laugh from Allen.

"But I'm the only that lived and was cursed!" Allen deadpanned with a sickening humored tone. "And I killed Mana a second time... Had to be done or not, best thing to do or not, it's not easy to handle. You know what hurts the most?" he asked, but didn't wait for Kanda's response and answered anyways. Right before I destroyed him, I saw his soul. I heard him say. . . '_I love you, Allen_.'"

Kanda said no more, rather, he left, bulldozing through Lavi and Lenalee. If they planned on saying something to Allen, they chose not to. They decided to leave him alone, but none of them found sleep that night. Actually, the hours they were deprived of sleep felt like all night. It wasn't.

Kanda heard Lavi grumble several times, "Being restless sucks."

And that's when they heard Allen's door open next door and his footsteps in the hall. Apparently, Allen couldn't wait until morning.

Which he couldn't. Like his friends he was restless. That voice in the back of his mind kept screaming at him now, telling him to go to the when it was right there. Just a small walk away, measly footsteps down the street and up a hill. But still it told him to go in that scary calm, even, leery whisper-like voice.

His friends followed him in the shadows. Normally, Allen's instincts would kick in. When it was blatant he wasn't suspicious in the least, they knew Allen was really '_hypnotized'_-by sorrow, perhaps.

He was tense while walking down the street where the accident occurred. His feet felt like anvils and it was so quiet, the wind spooked him and each step sounded like a bang. The knot in his chest tightened and the dread increased tenfold when he reached the bottom of the hill, the black iron fence traveling down the road to his left still unnecessary as it was three years ago. The tree where the Millennium Earl first approached him was still there, barren and luminous. The sky seemed blood red to him. Then there was the grave.

Images of him as a boy sitting at the grave crying his heart out of his loss until his tears dried up in the cold winter weather passed through his mind when he reluctantly took one step up the hill. He gulped, closing his eyes. _You can do this, Allen. You can do this_, was a mantra in his head. It's not the matter of can he do, rather, he will do it. He didn't have a choice, he felt.

Another step, and the Earl's unsettling grin as he hung behind the tombstone, looking down at Allen like a predator, passed through his mind's eye and he shivered. Why did he ever trust a scary person like him?

A few more steps, slow, so very languid. More images and this time words. Like his footsteps, the words rang in his head deliberately, far too slow, for him to comprehend what was being pronounced. But he knew what those words were.

How could the Earl have been so cruel? He should have heard that slight contempt in his cold, fake sympathetic voice. "_You poor child. How would you like to bring Mana back from tha detestable God?_"

He cringed at how foolishly he played into the Earl's hands back then. Now he was into the Fourteenth's hands.

"_Really? Can you do that?_"

Allen gritted his teeth. Foolish actions. Foolish questions. Of course you can't bring the dead back. Even children knew that. Him especially. So why? Was it hope? Was it his loneliness?

As the whole scenario of turning Mana into an Akuma, then destroying him, replayed in his mind, Allen felt his feet get heavier, his arms limps, and his eyes burned. When he finally reached the grave and crouched in front of it, gripping the side of the tombstone tightly, Allen didn't know if he could-or was-breathing.

He inhaled sharply, wincing at how raspy and broken even that sounded. What was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to talk?

Staring at the tombstone, he saw all the dirt on it that gathered from being not being tended to for years and the stone was corroding. Allen felt horribly guilty and tried scratching the mud and dirt, even weeds and thorny weeds, off the sentimental grave, blinking back the tears in his desperate need to save what was important to him and still he feared it so.

When Mana's name appeared at last, Allen felt like someone shot him in the heart and was still living through it. Sort of like his incident with Tyki Mikk when one of his Tease, his freaky butterfly tool that were carnivores, ate a hole in his heart. That pain, the torture, and the fear, as he lay there for what felt like forever in cold, lifeless labor, and knowing he was going to die. Perhaps he had died, but returned to life?

But it was the name on the grave he had to see. It released something off his shoulders, off his heart, while also forcing a gut-wrenching sob out his mouth, muffled by his hand. _Mana's gone. He's dead and I won't see him ever again._ It finally struck him, the reality. He knew all along he would never see or talk to Mana, nor hug him and tell him how much Allen loved him. It just took this long for the reality to impact him.

He felt like he was being crushed. Terror and guilt was replaced by sorrow and grief as he at last mourned over his father's death. It was painful, sobbing there, alone, in the middle of the night. It was also painful for his three friends at the bottom of the hill to wake him break down and listen to him cry. Those tears were unbearable to watch, but they managed to push past the impossible like Allen had.

But it was needed. It was what saved Allen from inner turmoil and catacombs. Even though his vision was blurry for the longest time and his throat was scratched, even though he sat there endlessly, night and day, until he was finally forced to go back to the Black Order. He spoke to Mana, he'd like to think. He hoped what he talked about-the Black Order, Cross, the people he's met, his crazy and funny adventures-all reached his father's ears in heaven.

Going there lifted a burden from his heart and his soul. Somehow, as Allen walked down the hill, he stood taller. His eyes may have been pink and puffy, his voice may have cracked and was raspy, but. . . It was inveterate, this cry and the meaning of returning to the scariest place in Allen's life. It no longer seemed dark to him.

However, right before he left, he heard someone, no, Mana's voice whispering in the wind and it made him stop and turn around.

"_I love you, Allen._"

* * *

_This didn't come out exactly as I wanted it to, but I still hope it's at least half as good as I wanted it to be. I know I said I wasn't going to do another story, but technically it's a oneshot, and I just couldn't get this idea out of my head. There aren't enough Mana/Allen stories I think, so I plan to make a real story later on about them. Anyway, please review. I would love to have your opinions on this one, because I'm unusually self-conscious about whether or not I explained Allen's feelings and emotions completely and thoroughly or not. Have a wonderful day/night!_

_*I'll correct any grammar/spelling mistakes soon if there is any.*_


End file.
